


We're Going On A Mann-Hunt

by niichts



Series: The Teufort Weekends [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niichts/pseuds/niichts
Summary: Scout gets bored one day. And when Scout gets bored, he's going to annoy someone. That being Sniper, who has been invited on a "man-hunt" as part of a test to see who is the most masculine.To think all the marksman wanted was a quiet weekend.





	1. Chapter 1

“And _that’s_ how ya become a good hunter, Scout.”

“Bull-frickin’- _shit_ , Snipes. There ain’t no chance you hit a dingo from that distance with a bow and arrow!”

“Yeah well, I’m a marksman, ain’t I? You wouldn’t even be able to hold the bloody thing.”

Scout looked ready to come back from that, but slowly closed his mouth and began to pout beside the bookcase – probably the first time anyone except Spy had gone near the thing, to be honest.

Time ticked by slowly in the rec room. It was a Friday night, meaning it was just Sniper, Scout and Engineer in the room whilst everyone else was patching up wounds, getting changed into fresh clothing or getting some rest.

“Son, you ain’t never been to Australia. You ain’t got no say in the matter as to whether the fella’s lyin’ or not, so deal with it,” Engineer piped up from the desk at the other end, nose in his blueprints.

“Ooh, two on one,” muttered Sniper, only loud enough for Scout to hear. Or so he thought.

“And you, stop eggin’ ‘im on,” the mild-mannered Texan added with the air of a tired parent scolding his children, “ya won the argument, ain’t no need to carry on tormentin’ ‘im.”

Silence. The clock’s ticking seemed to get increasingly louder every time.

“Besides Snipes, a dingo ain’t a real challenge,” Scout eventually piped up, the original air of smugness returning, “it would take a _real_ fighter to hunt somethin’ that can hunt you back.”

Sniper ignored Engineer’s exasperated sigh and snorted into his beer. “Mate, we kill blokes for a living. I daresay I already bloody do that already, thanks.”

“You’re gettin’ me wrong here, man! What I’m suggestin’ is a hired hunt! Like, contract killin’ and all that.”

“Alright, mate. Let’s say I agree to your daft idea. Where in the hell do you suggest we find a contract?”

Scout shrugged and frowned in thought. It looked like a jackal trying to work out how to stick its head in a toilet.

“Miss P’s bound to have some good contracts, like. Sure we could take a few of ‘em on.”

Sniper couldn’t help it. He burst into fits of laughter at that.

“What? She runs most things ‘round here, she’s gotta have some!”

“C’mon mate, contracts aren’t the only reason you’re probably wantin’ to see her.”

That crimson red of childish embarrassment creeped its way onto the younger man’s cheeks.

“Fuck off, Snipes,” he swiftly replied, not even bothering to try and come up with a better comeback, “I thought you were supposed to be a professional. I mean, what happened to the whole _be polite_ part of the job? They stop payin’ you for that or somethin’?”

Sniper eventually manged to stop himself from laughing, settling instead for a set of nasty hiccoughs.

“Ah screw it, I see you ain’t game,” the runner continued, that infuriating smirk resettling for the third time in a row, “so I guess you’re just scared.”

Now it was Sniper’s turn to frown.

“Scared? Of you?”

He almost wanted to start laughing again at how ridiculous that notion was.

“Nah. You’re scared of the fact that if we did do this, I’d beat ya. That _I’d_ be the best man-hunter.”

“What’s this about a man-hunt?” came a voice much too loud for use indoors. Soldier stormed over to Scout, parade-style, like he had just insulted his mother.

“Just Snipes, bein’ the coward he always is, backin’ out of my challenge.”

Soldier’s finger flew upwards at what seemed to roughly be the same speed as light, pointing directly at Scout’s nose.

“No. You do not go on a man-hunt, private. That is an order.”

“Why not, helmet-head? Just a bit of fun.”

“Oh yeah?” came that gravelly tone, the pitch implying that it was time for what Scout liked to call _Sergeant Pepper’s bedtime tales_. Only to himself nowadays, though. He’d only said it once directly to the man’s face and learned in due course just how long bruises from the receiving end of a shovel could last. They’d only just faded a few weeks ago.

“I was a victim of a man-hunt once. I’d just come back home from a tragic war, but then this cop started harassing me. Next thing you know, I had an entire army of cops chasing me through the woods. Had to take the sissies out. It was a bloodbath.”

The ticking of the clock seemed even louder than it ever had before as this information sunk in. Surprisingly enough, it was Engineer that spoke up first.

“That’s _Rambo_ , son.”

Soldier lowered his finger and turned to look at the Texan as if noticing him for the very first time. Which, knowing the man’s attention span, was probably the truth.

“Got something to say, private?”

“You’ve literally just described the plot of _Rambo.”_

“Yeah,” Scout added, the realisation hitting him, “it’s the first movie. The one we watched last night.”

“ _First Blood_.” Sniper replied, looking back at Engie for confirmation.

“ _Rambo: First Blood_ , that was it.”

Soldier slowly looked aimlessly at the ceiling, as if the answer to his newfound existential crisis might be scrawled along there.

“That ain’t the first time you’ve described ya life in the same way as John Rambo’s, mate. Ya need to go see the Doc about your medication again?” Sniper dared to quip. Soldier offered no reply, instead opting to continue gazing at the roof.

Ignoring the sudden incessant mumblings of bald eagles and fast food, Scout walked over to the door.

“Listen Snipes, I’m goin’ to Miss P now. You comin’ or what?”

Sniper weighed up the options in his head. If he refused, he would be spared a whole load of energy, but would have to put up with Scout’s incessant teasing until his next insignificant victory came along. On the other hand, agreeing meant he would have some chance of winning - though while he had no idea of what this “man-hunt” entailed, it was still anyone’s game.

Still, better a possibility of losing than a certainty of losing.

“Alright, mate. I’m in.”

 

*

 

Sawmill in the winter was no rainier than it was in summer, spring or autumn, yet the walk to Miss Pauling’s office at the other side of the complex seemed to take forever. Scout knew why. He and the Aussie were in competition mode now. They were bitter rivals. No social chit-chat. No banter between teammates. Just deep-seated determination.

Which was fine with him. He could go without talking.

For a few minutes.

Yup.

Stuff was okay for now.

No talking necessary.

Yup.

Miss P’s block should be close soon.

Very close.

Yup.

“Ya havin’ a stroke there, mate?” came a slightly mocking tone from the man beside him, “ya keep sayin’ _yup_ over and over again.”

Dammit. Something must have slipped out.

_Just gotta play it cool._

“Yeah, well, at least I can actually _get_ laid!”

_Wait, what?_

Sniper remained impassively silent for a while before a snort penetrated the air between them.

“Nope,” he sniggered derisively, “couldn’t keep a straight face. Even by ya usual standards, that one was weak.”

“Whatever.”

All Scout could say for sure right there and then was that at the very least Miss Pauling’s office was emerging out of the clearing. A single-roomed structure that looked more like a passport checkpoint than someone’s temporary home. And in true passport-checker style, the petite, purple-clad woman sat there in front of bulletproof window with her pen scribbling away and her eyes squinting in concentration.

“Yo, Miss P!”

Miss Pauling, to her credit, didn’t even bother to look up as they approached the window.

“Scout, I am not coming out with you, alright? Not now, not ev-“

“It ain’t about all that, Miss,” Sniper decided to add. He’d humiliated the boy enough today without getting to poke fun at all his romantic failures as well. “We were wantin’ to see if you had any kill contracts for folk in this area.”

Well, _that_ made her look up from her maintenance report.

“Why?”

“We got a little gamble goin’. Scout wants us to go man-huntin’, as he calls it, and we need a target.”

Miss Pauling’s lips almost stretched into a smile. Obviously wanting to take advantage of it, Scout butted in suddenly.

“Man-hunt. Register trademark by _me_ , thank you very much. Yeah, I’m awesome at namin’, no need to fawn all over me for it.”

“Sure, guys, if you honestly want to spend your weekends that way,” she said, turning round in her chair and digging into a set of drawers behind her. “I would have had to get rid of this guy myself anyway, so here we are…”

As she bent over to look further into the stack of files, a small segment of her skirt lifted slightly and exposed more of her stocking-clad thighs. Looking down, Sniper could see something poking out of Scout’s jogging bottoms and he was pretty sure it wasn’t his pistol.

“Get down lad, you’re embarrasin’ yerself. And ya can put _that_ thing away and all.”

As Scout shamefacedly turned away from the window and took deep breaths to clear his… _excitement_ , Miss Pauling slid a thin sheet of paper through a gap underneath the frame of glass with a photo attached via paperclip.

“Here’s your man. Around fifty, by the looks of him. Dresses in black and wears some daft hat. Always wearing skirts as well, so probably not the most mentally stable in the head. This good enough for you, Sniper?”

He hesitated for a bit too long before answering.

“Uh…yeah! Yeah, sure Miss.”

And without another words, he waved a good bye and started strolling back to base, grabbing Scout by the scruff of the neck and dragging him along too before he had another chance to make himself look like a moron.

“So who’s the guy?” the youngster inquired once he’d shrugged Sniper’s gloved hand off himself, “anyone we know?”

“…Yeah, ya could say that.”

“But Miss P said he was about fifty. Do we even _know_ any fifty-year old guys who aren’t members of the team?”

“Well mate, I don’t think she was quite right. He ain’t fifty, probably ‘bout…what did he say again? Nine hundred, was it?”

Scout’s face fell slack.

“Aw crap, man. Why him?”

“Dunno, mate. But does this mean ya chickenin’ out of our hunt?” He decided to add that teasing ending to his sentence, just to deliver an offer that couldn’t be refused.

“Nah man, of course not. Just wonderin’ why he was showin’ up this time of year, that’s all.”

Sniper just responded with a nonchalant shrug. And taking one last look at the scowling photo of Merasmus the Magician, he pocketed the sheet as they slogged back to their temporary home to gather supplies. This could be a _long_ couple of days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout gets into trouble. Because of course he does. Sometimes Sniper feels like he's just babysitting half the time.

“We’ve already discussed this, maggots!” Soldier barked across them, “You do not engage in a man-hunt!”

 

Despite the fact that not a single word was traded between them, the two somehow unanimously agreed to ignore him and continued packing their things.

 

“You hunt a man,” Soldier began, adopting the pose of a drill sergeant delivering a corporal punishment, “and he can snap like a twig. Next thing you know, he’s up at night, he’s burning down villages in Vietnam, and he’s killing everything that moves and everything that _lives!”_

Sniper rolled his eyes.

 

“Mate, ya talkin’ ‘bout _Rambo_ again.”

 

Another hesitation.

 

“No. No I’m not, that definitely happened to me.”

 

Scout tore his eyes away from his crate of Atomic Punch long enough to get his own quip in.

 

“This isn’t even the second time you’ve confused your life with an action hero’s, buddy. Wasn’t it at some point last month that you thought you were the Terminator?”

 

“No, actually I-“

“Yeah, that’s great, pal. Tell me it all later when I get back, yeah?”

 

And with that, Scout swung his bag over his back and headed for the base exit. Sniper, what wanting to face the inevitable ensuing monologue alone, decided to follow suit.

 

The rain was still refusing to let up as they strolled out onto the muddy path leading up to the main barn. Sniper closed the door just behind them in time to hear Medic shout, “If you find any poisonous newts while you’re out, bring them back for me!”

 

And with that, silence reigned for a few seconds as the drops pittered and pattered around them.

 

“Well mate, see ya round” the bushman said, scanning his surroundings in an attempt to find a place in which he could scope out the area undetected. “Remember what we agreed: whoever catches the wizard first wins our little bet.”

 

“Sure thing Snipes, but ya needn’t bother try to remember the rules, ‘cos I’m winnin’ either way.”

Those were the last words he said before turning around and walking in (what Sniper assumed was supposed to be) an impressive manner towards the barn, his backpack jangling with every step.

 

Right in the direction of the BLU enemy base.

 

_What an idiot._

 

Should he warn him?

 

Sniper shot the youth one more cursory glance over his shoulder as headed off towards the lake in the opposite direction.

 

 _Nah_. It would be a good learning experience.

 

*

 

Scout was never one to admit he was wrong to others – if he did so at home, there was no doubt in his mind that one of his seven brothers wouldn’t let him hear the end of it for at least another week. As an unfortunate result, this mentality had stayed with him for years on end, even if his number of teeth in ensuing street brawls hadn’t. But he had to come clean, whilst spurred on by the fact that it was highly unlikely that anyone else was in hearing distance.

 

He was lost. Already.

 

Scout had essentially been wandering in the opposite direction to Sniper in an attempt to stay as far away from him as possible. This wizard was _his_ , goddamit, and he was going to make sure that no-one was around to steal his glory when it came to kicking some supernatural ass.

 

And now he hadn’t really paid attention to his surroundings and couldn’t see anything through the maze of trees as the rain continued to plummet, gradually growing heavier. The lake was to his right and nothing but giant brown trunks hemmed him in from all other directions.

 

It was growing dark, too. The sun was beginning to stab the sky with orange blades as it sank beneath the tree line.

 

Scout knew what his options were: he could try and find Sniper, which would immediately result in a teasing, or he could continue wandering until he found Merasmus by chance. He knew what the smartest option was.

 

Opening his backpack temporarily in order to pull out a can of _Bonk_ and take a swig, he brushed himself off and continued to walk, all the while shouting “ _Merasmus!”_

*

 

About two hours later, as the sky began to grow black, stars pricking through the inky darkness, Scout re-appeared at the lake for the twentieth time, his voice hoarse and eyes weary.

 

“ _Merasmus!”_ he croaked slightly, before dropping to his knees upon realising where he was. “Oh, fer God’s sake…been goin’ in more damn circles…”

 

The lake was coated in weeds and dirt, so he didn’t dare take a drink despite how parched he was. His entire reserve of soda had been used up in his meandering, the sugar giving him extra shouting energy, though he could slowly start to feel his body grow weary now.

 

“ _Scout!”_ came a familiar voice through the trees.

 

All thoughts of glory wiped out of his mind from exhaustion, Scout stood up and looked in the direction of the sound. He still couldn’t see anything, though.

 

“ _Snipes?”_ he yelled back, cupping his mouth with his hands to amplify the sound.

 

“ _What in the bloody hell are ya doin’ over there?”_ came the reply, sounding both amazed and annoyed.

 

 _“We’re lookin’ fer the wizard, remember?”_ Scout yelled back despite the pain in his throat. Sniper didn’t know what he was up to?

 

The response was a long time coming.

 

 ** _“_** _Yeah sure, mate”_ came the voice, dripping with sarcasm, _“anyway, when ya done, start headin’ towards my voice. It’s getting’ dark and ya need to get back into base.”_

Scout wanted to protest, but by this point was too tired to complain. They could continue this little competition later, as much to his lethargic happiness, the lack of gloating seemed to signify that Sniper hadn’t caught anyone either.

 

 _“Alright, I’m comin!”_ he hollered back as a final reply, before dragging his feet in the right direction. Of course it was the one direction he hadn’t bothered to take over the course of the day.

 

As he stared at his feet and ignored the odd stumble, a thought hit him. What if Sniper had faked out? What if he’d planned something with Miss Pauling, so she would give him a fake contract? Then once he’d walked far enough into the woods, that dirty Australian had just headed back to base?

 

“He wouldn’a done that” he mumbled to himself, saying it aloud to feel more reassured. It didn’t really work, however, as he could picture the guy sitting all cosy in the record room and having a laugh with Engineer whilst he froze his ass off outside.

 

He eventually looked up to see a light in the clearing, glaring down in his direction on the side of a building.

 

“Hey Snipes, I’m back!” he said loudly, ready to chew the guy out for something he was pretty sure hadn’t even happened. Better do it just in case, though.

 

“’Kay mate,” came the grizzled reply, “lemme just come down from the perch…”

 

The obvious sound of boots clomping down a wooden ladder echoed in Scout’s ears.

 

“Gotta say, ya sounded in a real bad way when ya were shoutin’ from behind those trees. Upset most ‘a the birds, ya di-“the older man’s voice cut off suddenly as the final sound of an impact of feet upon gravel rang out. Scout wondered what was up and decided it was high time he raised his head, despite every withered muscle in his body screaming at him not to.

 

It was Sniper, standing there wide-eyed behind his aviators, his rifle cradled in his hands. Scout nearly laughed at the man’s reaction to his heavy eyes, sore voice and slightly runny nose.

 

Then he noticed that the guy was wearing a blue uniform.

 

_Oh._

 

*

 

Sniper had spent many an hour sat in the tallest tree he could find, one eye jammed into his scope and the other squinted shut for so long he wondered whether he’d ever be able to open it again. it had been a good idea to take along those empty jars; the ridiculous amounts of rain had really encouraged the urge to relieve himself multiple times. The latest of his natural lemonade was festering in his backpack as he scratched his ear slightly and continued to focus.

 

 _There._ Movement in the trees. A slight movement of something black, definitely not an animal, but it moved too quickly to fully register. It could easily have been a piece of litter that a camper may have left at some point. He slowly increased the focus of the rifle’s lens, trying to see if he could make anything out in the pitch-black foliage, when something else in the corner of his view grabbed his attention.

 

Scout was running in the direction of the tree, panic written all across his features and his arms flailing as he sprinted towards him, eyes widening upon noticing Sniper in the branches.

 

“ _Snipes!”_ he bellowed, “ _help!”_

 

Sniper allowed himself a chuckle as the scrawny youth hurried closer. He’d most likely seen a bear and his not-so-strong-after-all muscles had failed him in direct combat. Craning his neck to see if he could spot such a wild creature, he re-aligned his sites just in time to see about twenty bullets, a rocket and a grenade flying after the boy.

 

“ _What the hell did you do?”_ he yelled in disbelief as Scout dodged the grenade and ducked as the rocket sailed over his head and blew a nearby stump to smithereens. The lad caught his breath for a few seconds, tiredness evident but no longer a priority in his mind.

 

“I went ova to the base and I thought I heard ya and then it turns out it wasn’t actually you but it was the BLU Sniper and then-“

 

He shrieked and leaped to one side as a single bullet pierced the bark of the trunk in the exact spot where his head had been a nanosecond before.

 

“Listen man, ya gotta help me here, gemme outta this and I’ll say you’ve won, c’mon…”

 

Sniper grumbled under his breath as the collective sound of yelling came through the clearing, more and more trees getting knocked down as the mob of enemies approached. A Soldier, a Demoman, a Heavy and a Sniper all ran into his sights.

 

Big mistake.

 

As much as he wanted to see that cocky smirk wiped off the kid’s face with a good old-fashioned gunshot, the lad was looking up at him from below with surprisingly convincing puppy-dog eyes. Not to mention that it was rare for him to have a target this inviting.

 

Without so much as a one-word answer, Sniper loaded a bullet into the rifle’s chamber, took aim and fired in one swift movement. The enemy Sniper had only a slight moment to look up as he registered the noise, before his head was blown into about twenty different pieces.

 _“Boys, we have a sniper!”_ shouted the Soldier, but Sniper was already sliding down the tree trunk, digging his kukri into the bark to slow his descent. He reached the bottom flawlessly as the branch he had just been sitting on was struck by a rocket, allowing himself a quick grin at a gawking Scout.

 

“C’mon,” he grinned, before grabbing the kid by the arm and dragging him along after him. For being the “fastest man on earth”, the little ankle-biter could really improve on his basic reflexes and knowing when it was best not to just stand there staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and rewrote this chapter numerous times in an attempt to make it as funny and as close to the characters as possible. Either way, hope you enjoy it and tell me how I did!
> 
> 'Til next time!

**Author's Note:**

> I may have butchered everyone's accents a little, for which I apologise - I'm just trying to make everyone's dialogue as close to the characters as possible. I'm also intending for this to be a short-ish story in perhaps an upcoming series, so tell me what you think of this story so far below - I'm fairly certain that I'm now more reliant on comments than I am food and water.


End file.
